thing, an' de'ad—de'ad—loike tha son upo' her knees. Tha fo'ak said as how she vvor smilin' loike a babby sleepin'; but o' th' fa'ace o' him, ah, theer wor 'n ahful look, 's if th' horrors 'd follered un an' fott un fur ther o'an.
An' tha do tell 's Long Tom niver rested in 's pla'ace i' th' kirkgarth, an' that o' dark noights afore th' Cars wor dra'ained, a want moanin' oop an' doon by th' edge o' th' bog, wi' 's au'd mother trailin' efter 'm, an' i' th' mid o' th' shriekin' an' sobbin' fo'ak said as tha cu'd hear tha au'd woman's voice, whimperin' oot, as 'd done so often i' li'fe:
"A coom back to 's mother, 'n she a widder!"
The Strangers' Share.
A dessa'ay 's fo'ak ha' tellt 'ee he'aps 'bout 'n tha bogles 'n ahl o' they things i' th' au'd toimes. A ha' heerd stra'ange ta'ales masel', from th' gran'ther 'n gran'mur; but tha wor main grewsome loike ta'ales, as a set ma shakin' on'y to harken to when a wor a brat; a loiked better whan tha ta'alked o' th' Stra'angers. Hasn't thou heerd tell on them? That's odd, now. Theer wor he'aps on 'em, to than; ay, an' a be still, a tell 'ee—a've seed un no la'ater 'n—but, theer, thou 'll on'y flout at ma, ef a tell 'ee they au'd ta'ales. Wa'al—ef 'ee wull—mun ha' thy wa'ay! Maids be fractious bodies when they're crossed—nigh so bad 's th' Stra'angers thersel's!
But, moind, thou'll no tell th' wimmen-fo'ak; fur ef they thowt as a b'leeved they ta'ales, tha 'd set th' pa'asson 'bout ma yearn to wanst. Ef a do b'leeve 'em ra'aly? Ou—let that fle'a bide! Mappen th' pa'asson fo'ak bea'nt so wise 's tha set oop to be'a; an' 't'ud be ahk'ard ef arter a body died, a fun' as th' au'd fo'ak 'd bin i' th' roight arter ahl! Annywa'ays a koind o' reckon 'tis well to ke'p in wi' bo'ath—see'st tha?—an' sort o' b'leeve nuthin' an' iverythin'—in a wa'ay.
But 'bout th' Stra'angers. Thou knows what they be—ay—thou 's geyan ready wi' th' wo'd, but it be'nt
